


limitless

by flightlesswish



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentioned NCT Ensemble, Past Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightlesswish/pseuds/flightlesswish
Summary: in which kim dongyoung struggled to find his soulmate and made a few questionable life choices.





	limitless

**Author's Note:**

> hi! welcome to my first nct fanfic. please enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> disclaimer: i own nothing but the story, i write fiction not reality.

 

i.

 

 _this is a dream_ , doyoung mused a few beats after his eyes fluttered open. he was immediately greeted with the view of the moon hanging in the sky dotted with stars against the black celestial canvas. he could feel the cold brushing against his skin, seeping through to his bones. it felt cold, and lonely, as if he were the only human left on earth. he shuddered at the thought and averted his gaze to his right, where – to his own surprise – he saw another man laying on the cool, ivory sand next to him – the other’s eyes closed, strands of his dark brown hair fluttering slightly by the wind. his face was pale, his lips subtly hued in pink despite the cold.

doyoung slowly rose from where he was lying down, the palm of his hands and his bare feet sinking slightly into the smooth sand in the process. he blinked and took in the view in front of him: the sea that seemed endless, and the rolling waves. he could hear the sound of waves gently crashing, almost like a lullaby soothing him back to sleep.

 _but this is a dream,_ doyoung repeated to himself, as he returned his gaze to his right and the view of the man sleeping, peacefully undisturbed, filled in his view once again. _isn’t it?_

the man looked familiar, somehow; it felt like doyoung knew him in another time – in another reality, perhaps. doyoung carefully inched closer to the man, eyes curious, lips pressed together.  he studied the other man’s features quietly, taking his time. the man was handsome, features all sharp and soft in all the right places. from this angle, doyoung could almost see the ghosts of dimples on the man’s pale cheeks. the man looked like he could be a descendant of the gods, or a stunning masterpiece coming into life.

doyoung shivered as the wind blew stronger. he lowered his gaze and realised that he was only wearing a loose white shirt and a pair of his favourite dark blue jeans. the man, he realised, was also wearing a similar outfit. the sound of the crashing waves grew louder in his ears, and the breeze was also getting stronger and stronger. the man stirred slightly in his sleep, his closed eyes fluttering slightly as a frown made its way on his face.

before he knew it, doyoung’s hand was reaching out to the man’s face, as if trying to soothe him back to his deep, undisturbed slumber. doyoung gulped when he realised what he was doing. against his best judgment, he decided to gather his courage. he reached his hand out to caress the man’s cheek gently – and suddenly, just like that, he could feel tears falling down from the corners of his own eyes as he blinked.

hesitantly, doyoung parted his lips.

slowly, the man’s somnolent eyes flickered open.

 

 

 

ii.

( _the dream that shook up my world last night –_ _was it a nightmare, am i still in that dream?)_

doyoung jerked awake; heart beating so fast he felt like it could burst out of his chest at any given moment. as he regained his consciousness and focus, he instinctively averted his gaze to his right, only to find an empty spot on his own bed – as per usual. his hands instinctively made their way to his cheeks, and felt that they were wet with his own tears. _it was a dream,_ he said to himself out loud, surprising himself with how shaky his voice sounded. _it wasn’t real._

doyoung wiped away his tears with the back of his hands gently, and made his way to open the curtain. it was raining outside; droplets of rain chasing each other on the windowpanes, lured by the gravity. a glance at the clock on the wall told him it was seven a.m. on a sunday, no less – definitely way too early for doyoung to be having an existential crisis. he inhaled deeply, held it, and let out after five seconds, just like what jungwoo – one of his co-workers, a self-proclaimed yoga guru – told him when doyoung was on the verge of getting aneurysm from dealing with donghyuk for ten minutes straight.

 _that’s better,_ he breathed. _much better._

doyoung ambled back to his bed and took his phone from the desk bedside desk, checking if he had missed anything. apparently, according to the texts he received from ten, he had missed _a lot_.

somehow during all of the six hours doyoung was asleep, yuta had managed to finally find his soulmate – a handsome, quiet danseur from china– at one of the fancier clubs in downtown seoul. it was yuta’s winning celebration night out last night, what with him and his team (yuta was a striker for the seoul tigers, the reigning champions of the korean top league) winning the match against incheon cheetahs last friday. not only that, it seemed like johnny finally got the guts to propose to ten. they found each other at the university years ago and nobody was really surprised, just kind of amused that it took johnny – a renowned casanova – this long.

at the thought, doyoung’s gaze fell on his own hand, where his own red string encircled his lean wrist. at the age of twenty-five, doyoung had finished his bachelor and master degrees in law and now working at one of the magic circle law firms in seoul. he was a rising star at the firm, likeable, brilliant, and (according to taeyong, his best friend slash flatmate) practically working his arse off to his miserable death.

kim dongyoung was practically married to his work, and he had no time for some real romance.

he took a long breath and sighed. before he forgot, he quickly sent his congratulatory messages to yuta, ten, and johnny, with his recurrent apologies for not being able to be there last night.

somehow, throughout the years, doyoung’s apology and absence had become a routine for them. it was kind of fucked up, when doyoung thought about it now, but when his friends found their respective soulmates one by one while he himself had not, it got kind of lonely. and just like that, one day in a sleepless winter night, doyoung just decided to drown himself in his studies and work (eventually) – something real and tangible that he could hold on to – and stopped caring too much about when he would finally meet his own.

it was around that time the dreams began.

the gentle waves, the glimmering stars – the face he could never remember.

and the tears.

sometimes, doyoung wondered what would happen if he tried to follow the thread until he saw the person on the other end of the line. he wondered where he would end up – would it be the café down the street? would it be his hometown in guri, a random ancient castle somewhere in england, some random park in connecticut?

or, after all – would he end up at a beach, somewhere at the end of the earth?

 

 

 

iii.

in the rarest of times, some people were granted the ability to connect with their soulmates. some people had telepathic abilities, some people could feel what exactly their soulmates were feeling. it was all random, like some fucked-up version of a roulette. such ability might manifest since the very beginning, as early as right when they were born, or later as they grew older.

people said that couples with such abilities were special, that their bond was even stronger than the others without.

 _it’s a wonderful gift to have_ , he recalled one of his teachers at middle school said in one of his classes. _it’s almost a pity that it’s not gifted to everyone._

at the age of twenty-one, doyoung had his dreams.

sometimes, more often than not, he wished he did not.

 

 

 

iv.

( _sometimes, i get lost_.)

but, before all that – 

some years ago, in his first year of university, well before the dreams began, doyoung met lee taeyong at one of the dubiously popular nightclubs near the faculty which served cheap alcohol and played atrocious, obnoxious music on the regular.

lee taeyong was the most beautiful human being doyoung had ever laid his eyes on.

a push, a decent dose of alcohol, a knowing smirk, and an inviting pull later, doyoung found himself pressed against taeyong at one of the corners somewhere in the club, speakers blaring some techno music he absolutely despised, mouth busy chasing each other’s, hands traveling north and south, _everywhere_ , mapping every inch of their bodies under the dim lights of the room.

they went on like that; a week turned into two and three and four –

(like most of the population at their age, they never talked about how their red strings were heading to somewhere – _someone_ , else.)

it went on until one evening, when doyoung was curled up in his sofa watching the tv where the broadcaster was announcing that a fatal crash involving the rising pop star moon taeil and his manager had just happened, he could hear that his door was knocked with imminent urgency.

doyoung reluctantly tore his gaze away from the tv, eyebrows knitted.  who on earth would want to see him at eleven p.m. on a wednesday?

with a sigh, he got up to open the front door, and taeyong – beautiful, _beautiful_ taeyong – was on his doorstep, his usually impeccable hair wrecked, eyes red with tears.

 _i can’t see it_ , taeyong choked out, voice hoarse, his beautiful eyes full of tears. _not anymore. i can’t –_

wordlessly, doyoung inched closer and took taeyong’s trembling figure in his arms.

doyoung continued to hold him like that, wishing he could say anything to make taeyong feel better, but could not find the words for the most beautiful man on earth with a broken heart.

 

 

(the following day, in the quiet moments just before the break of the dawn, taeyong asked whether doyoung still had a soulmate.

doyoung’s _yes_ some heartbeats later came out softer than he expected it would be.

he remembered the soft smile laced with sorrow gracing taeyong’s pale lips before he drifted back to sleep, fingers instinctively holding on to the sleek fabric of taeyong’s shirt.

the next time he opened his eyes again, taeyong was gone.)

 

 

 

v.

( _wake me up, wake me up –_ )

sometimes doyoung wondered whether it would be easier for him to just not have a soulmate and stayed with taeyong.

however, after that fateful evening, taeyong broke up with him (if it could be called a break up at all – doyoung honestly did not remember if they ever made the thing between them official), but they remained friends. no hard feelings, they said to each other. they acknowledged that what they had was special, and that they cared a lot about each other, but taeyong insisted that doyoung should be with his soulmate – not him.

taeyong had been his anchor ever since.

(he was the only one doyoung ever confided in about his recurring dreams.)

two years after their graduation, they moved in together to an apartment in the outskirt of seoul. doyoung just came back from england after finishing his master degree then, and taeyong was on his way to establish himself as one of the best up-and-coming architect money could buy in south korea.

they took care of each other very well. taeyong would always make sure doyoung eat on time, nagging at the younger to stop working so _much_ , and stopped doyoung from going to work every time he was too sick to but too stubborn to take a sick leave. likewise, doyoung would calm taeyong down whenever the older overthink and on the verge of a panic attack, he would do the house chores, and make sure that taeyong did not feel like he was alone in this world.

they got along perfectly together.

(sometimes, doyoung would see taeyong cry after drawing a man with the sweetest smile under the lucent moon.

he would also get nightmares every now and then – jerking awake screaming the most heart-wrenching sound doyoung had every heard.

when that happened, doyoung would gather taeyong in his arms, lead him back to his bed, and sang him back to sleep).

 

 

 

vi.

it would be a lie to say that doyoung had never wondered how on earth would his relationship with his soulmate top what he and taeyong had.

(in retrospect, he should not have been too quick to judge.)

 

 

 

vii.

 _so,_ taeyong began as he chewed on his freshly-made french toast, taking a seat across of him in their dining table on one lazy saturday morning in early april, still in his ridiculous stitch onesie pyjamas. _you are free tomorrow._

it was not a question. taeyong was many things, and persistent is definitely somewhere on top of the list. when lee taeyong wanted something, you could bet your arse he would do anything to make it happen.

like right at this very moment.

eyeing the older man warily, doyoung let out a sigh. _do i have a choice?_ he asked wryly, internally resigning to his impending fate.

taeyong beamed, all sunshine and rainbows. _nope._

doyoung had long learned that devils would never hesitate to disguise themselves like angels in order to get what they wanted.

 _shoot,_ doyoung allowed after pretending to consider about it for ten whole seconds before taking a sip at his warm, freshly brewed, earl grey tea. perfect.

 _i have a client who is a big fan of this famous painter, and he’s having an exhibition tomorrow,_ taeyong started.  _my client would like to get one of this guy’s painting, which will go really well with the design of their house i’ve been working on,_ he elaborated and paused momentarily to take another bite of his toast.  _it’s actually ten’s job to go and see, since he’s the interior designer and all, but he got sick and won’t be able to go, so he asked me to go instead._

doyoung raised an eyebrow. _and? what does that have anything to do with me?_

taeyong actually had an audacity to roll his eyes. _ten’s got two tickets to the exhibition and the last time you went out other than to work was an ancient epoch ago._

 _hey, that’s not true, i went out with you to that garden –_ taeyong gave him a _look_ , and shit, doyoung could not even remember when that actually was. _okay, point taken, go ahead, i‘m listening,_ doyoung relented in a small voice.

 _you know i love you, but you really need to go out more,_ taeyong added, voice soft. _besides, this guy is supposed to be really good. ten was basically crying because he could not go. apparently this guy paints the most realistic oceans or whatever._

doyoung paused at that. _oceans?_

 _yeah,_ taeyong shrugged. _but rumour said this time he’s going to exhibit other paintings too – something new, which apparently is driving everyone interested in paintings crazy. he’s been all hush hush about it._

doyoung took a deep breath and closed his eyes as fragments of his dream were rushing back to him. the sand, the moon, the waves, and –

 _hey,_ taeyong called out softly, pulling doyoung gently out of his stupor. doyoung opened his eyes slowly to find the older man eyeing him with concern. _are you okay?_ taeyong added, concern palpable in his voice, hand reaching out to his instinctively.

doyoung blinked, and for a moment he could not find his voice. he tried to focus on taeyong, the hood of his blue stitch onesie falling off his uncombed hair, a spot of his favourite blueberry jam visible on the corner of his slightly chapped lips. years ago, doyoung would have leaned in and kiss the jam away. at once, he was suddenly hit by the realisation on how the romantic feelings he had for the older man had waned over the years – it almost felt like grasping on a handful of sand, now. he could not help but wonder when it started and when would it end – whether he would feel anything remotely close ever again. not going to lie, the thought scared him a little.

but maybe, just _maybe_ , there was still hope out there, for him – if anything people said about soulmates with curious abilities such as him held any truth to it.

so doyoung decided to hold on to that frail hope, a small smile blooming on his lips.

 _yeah_ , doyoung answered when he finally found his voice, pushing the nebulose image of the man with white shirt and dark jeans sleeping on the beach somewhere at the end of the world to the very back of his mind.  _i’m in._

 

 

 

viii.

somehow, doyoung managed to get separated from taeyong within five minutes of entering the exhibition venue.

there were just so many _people_ it was making doyoung’s head spin.

they had just missed the press conference held by the painter by a few minutes, no thanks to taeyong and his ridiculously long and complicated make-up routine (which, if you asked doyoung, he did not really need). it was nearing twilight when they arrived, and no thanks to the venue – which is located by the beach and therefore at this hour was cold as hell – doyoung had been sneezing repeatedly because he was a fool who wore a simple, oversized white shirt and jeans instead of a proper outfit for a windy evening. also, why was taeyong’s hair black today out of all days, damn it. if he had stuck with his fiery red hair it would have been much easier to spot him in this ocean of people.

ha, ocean of people.

speaking of which.

doyoung flipped through the small booklet on the exhibition he got at the entrance. _jung jaehyun – limitless,_ said the neat cursive print on the light blue cover. it contained the list of paintings exhibited and a brief information on each piece, in the recommended viewing order, written by the painter himself. eventually, he stopped at the last page, revealing a blank frame and a text of ‘ _pull me out of my deepest slumber_ ’ printed in a small, neat print beneath it, and a smaller ‘( _admittance for one_ )’ just below the text. around him, he could hear people talking excitedly and curiously about the last mysterious painting and where they could find it.

apparently, from the bits and pieces he could hear from the people talking around him, nobody had been successful in finding it so far.

some people even started wondering whether it was a fraud after all.

shaking his head, doyoung decided to move along and forewent his plan to look for taeyong first. at this rate, he would probably only find taeyong when the exhibition would be closed for the day and by then he would get nothing out of this trip. taeyong was probably somewhere looking for the agent to ask for the price of one of the most ridiculously abstract paintings available.

so doyoung strolled around, and studied the displayed paintings with interest. he could see that jaehyun – the painter – was certainly gifted. the exhibition was arranged and ordered in such a way that each painting seemed to be like telling pieces of the same story, one painting prevising the next. some time later, he was too engrossed in the paintings that he did not realise that he was already in the last – well, if the booklet was to be trusted, it should be _second_ to last, really – painting. in this one, the sky is in the shade of dark, dark blue, with several dots of silver bestrewed around the upper half of the canvas. an immense, radiant full moon was brushed effortlessly in the middle, just above the almost blurred line separating the sky and the tenebrous ocean. on the sandy beach, he could make out the outlines of two figures gazing up at the moon, a ghost of crimson smeared thinly between them.

 _interesting_ , doyoung mused as he took in the entirety of the medium-sized art. something in this painting felt terribly familiar. _i think i –_

_doyoung._

doyoung nearly jumped out of surprise when he felt a hand on his shoulder. he turned around to find a bemused taeyong, his previously perfectly-styled hair now in the state of disarray; a bad habit of the architect when he was frustrated with something, a universal sign in taeyong-speak for annoyance and discontent. looking at the now-creased booklet in his hand, doyoung could bet his entire life savings on what had been bothering him.

_doyoung. did you manage to find the last painting?_

spot on.

 _nope,_ doyoung responded, popping the last p absentmindedly.  _does it even exist?_

 _yeah, it has to be,_ taeyong sighed, frustration now dripping into his voice. _jaehyun’s reputation is too great for him to lie about something like this_.

doyoung shrugged, his gaze returning to the faint crimson on the painting in front of them. it was so faint that anyone could miss it had they not been paying enough attention. _huh._

 _what?_ taeyong responded absentmindedly, now busy with his phone, fingers dancing fast on the screen. he was probably texting ten for clues.

 _maybe…_ doyoung trailed off. _maybe he doesn’t want it to be found._

taeyong looked up from the phone, paused for a couple of heartbeats, and rolled his eyes before diverting his attention back to his phone. _that’s ridiculous._

they were quiet after that, shifting to one of the corners so that the other visitors could have their turns to observe the painting.

 _pull me out of my deepest slumber, the booklet said…_ doyoung pondered. _admittance for one…_

as he was thinking, doyoung’s gaze eventually fell on his own wrist; his red string still stretching towards the middle of nowhere. he looked up again to direction of the painting, knitted his eyebrows, and back to his wrist again. his gaze followed the stretch of the string  as he clenched and unclenched his wrist experimentally, slowly.

after a few heartbeats, he swore he could feel a gentle tug – almost like a reply – from the other end of the line.

he blinked.

 _yep, i’m going mad,_ he cursed internally and turned around to taeyong, who was still busy with his phone, a scowl now discernible on his face.

 _taeyong-hyung,_ doyoung called out, sounding oddly calm despite the maelstrom forming in his mind. at taeyong’s non-committal response, he continued. _how mad would you be if i ditch you right now?_

taeyong’s reply was immediate, as if he had been prepared to get ditched by doyoung from the get-go. _i won’t cook for you and won’t do the house chores for the whole month._ a pause.  _and i will tell jeno horrible things about you._

doyoung frowned at the last one, thrown off guard. how dare he use sweet little jeno to get back at him! doyoung thought, scandalised. at that, doyoung paused and carefully weighed his options, eyebrows knitting in concentration. after a few moments –

 _deal,_ he finally conceded, deciding that _fuck it, i’ll just deal with this later_ , and dashed towards the edge of the world without looking back.

ix.

 _this feels like a dream_ , doyoung mused as he eventually lessened his pace, following where the red string encircled on his wrist would take him. it took him out of the venue, out to the cold, and _–_ even though it should not come as a surprise to him by now – to the beach next to the venue.

after a few minutes of walking, he was greeted with the view of the moon hanging in the sky dotted with stars against the black celestial canvas. he stopped, taking in the breath-taking view in front of him. in a hindsight, it reminded him so much of the paintings he saw earlier. he could feel the cold brushing against his skin, seeping through to his bones. it felt cold, and lonely, as if he were the only human left on earth. he shuddered at the thought and averted his gaze to his right, where – to his surprise –  another man was laying on the cool, ivory sand near to him, to his right – the other’s eyes closed, strands of his dark brown hair fluttering slightly by the wind. his face was pale, his lips subtly hued in pink despite the cold.

doyoung suddenly felt the urge to inch closer to the man – and so he did, hesitantly, and sat himself down next to sleeping man on the smooth sand; the palm of his hands and his bare feet sinking slightly into the smooth sand in the process. after a moment, doyoung turned his gaze back to the view in front of him. he blinked, and took in the sight: the sea that seemed endless, and the rolling waves. he could hear the sound of waves gently crashing, almost like a lullaby soothing him to sleep.

his gaze eventually found its way back to the red string on his wrist, and its other end circling on the other man’s pale wrist.

 _but this isn’t a dream,_ doyoung repeated to himself, as he lifted his gaze and the view of the man sleeping, peacefully undisturbed, filled in his view once again. _is it?_

doyoung was pretty sure he had never met the man before, but the man looked so _familiar_ , somehow; it felt like doyoung knew him in another time – in another reality, perhaps.

doyoung carefully inched closer to the man, eyes curious, lips pressed together.  he studied the other man’s features stilly, taking his time. the man was handsome, features sharp and soft in all the right places. from this angle, doyoung could almost see the ghosts of dimples on the man’s pale cheeks. the man looked like he could be a descendant of the gods, or a stunning masterpiece coming into life.

doyoung, inadequately dressed in his loose white shirt and jeans, shivered as the wind blew stronger. the man, he realised, was also wearing a similar outfit. he briefly wondered how the man could sleep so peacefully, like this. the sound of the crashing waves grew louder in his ears, and the breeze was also getting stronger and stronger. the man stirred slightly in his sleep, his closed eyes fluttering slightly as a frown made its way on his face.

before he knew it, doyoung’s hand was reaching out to the man’s face, as if trying to soothe him back to his deep, undisturbed slumber. doyoung gulped when he realised what he was doing. against his best judgment, he decided to gather his courage. he reached his hand out to caress the man’s cheek gently– and suddenly, just like that, he could feel tears falling down from the corners of his own eyes as he blinked.

hesitantly, doyoung parted his lips.

slowly, the man’s somnolent eyes flickered open.

 

 

 

x.

( _like finding a big ocean at the end of a desert –_ )

the man rose, gentle hands eventually finding their way to doyoung’s damp cheeks; his dark-brown eyes glimmered under the moonlight.

doyoung instinctively clenched his fingers around his wrist; the red string connecting the two of them together irradiant crimson.

(nothing had ever felt so _right_.)

 _you found me,_ the man marvelled in a whisper, a soft smile playing on his lips, dimples showing. at the touch of his destined, doyoung could only stay still; all the words in the world escaping his tongue apace.

 _my name is jung jaehyun,_ the man – jaehyun – continued, voice wondrously warm. _thank you for waking me up._

 

 

 

xi.

when their lips finally met, doyoung fluttered his eyes shut and finally let go.

xii.

( _like this – our existence is limitless.)_

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this piece in october last year, when i first got hooked by nct through regular. because of real life, i only managed to finish it now. to be honest, this did not turn out like what i originally planned (this was originally supposed to be a harry potter!au, can you believe how far i got off-track lmao). just like real life, writing fanfic has lots or twists and turns, i guess lol. 
> 
> also, i suck at making summaries. apologies for that!
> 
> the italic words in brackets in the beginning of some of the parts (except the last part) are taken from nct 127's limitless.
> 
> anyways - thank you so much for reading this! i wish you all a happy new year, and hopefully see you all in another story soon!


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